


Home Is Where The Heart Is

by touchinghearts



Category: SHINee
Genre: Fluff, Happy, M/M, OTT Fluff, One Shot, Romance, sap
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-24
Updated: 2011-06-24
Packaged: 2017-10-20 16:37:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,271
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/214800
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/touchinghearts/pseuds/touchinghearts
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When the main character declares murderous intent against his best friend and starts running around with a flame-thrower, Jinki speaks again. “I want a house.” Post SHINee!disbandment fic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Home Is Where The Heart Is

**Author's Note:**

> Implied HyunMin. Happy :D  
> Warning: Unbetaed so there may be some mixed tenses.

The boy – he’s older than all of them, Minho doesn’t understand how this kid who looks at _least_ Taeminnie’s age can be older than all of them – is all awkward glasses and a bright, if a little shy, smile. “My name is Lee Jinki,” he introduces himself politely.

Minho isn’t exactly the most confident person in the world but he feels outstanding compared to this kid. Hyung, he corrects himself. “Choi Minho,” he says with his own welcoming smile. “Sorry I wasn’t there during the meeting, I had a last minute replacement test I couldn’t miss.”

“Oh, that’s alright. I’ve met the others.” The boy’s smile grows a little and without realising it, Minho’s becomes warmer. “You’re supposed to be a rapper in the project group, right?”

Minho has heard from Jonghyun-shii that Lee Jinki is supposed to be the other main vocal. He can see it, because Jinki’s voice is a smooth, melodic baritone, a contrast to his entire demeanour.

“Yes,” he says with a nod. “Kibum-shii and I are the rappers.”

Silence falls and Minho senses the awkwardness wash over them with the force of a tidal wave.

“Um,” says Jinki, and stops.

Minho forces another smile. Taemin’s told him that Jinki is a nice guy (apparently they knew each other before the introductory meeting) but Minho’s used to people, or at least people older than him, who are cool and sure of themselves. Most of his friends here are either loud or ridiculous and the people in his project group, as in Jonghyun, Kibum and Taemin, are both. Jinki, however, seems to be the opposite. Minho isn’t sure how to deal with him.

“I, uh, I guess I better go back to the practice room,” he says uncomfortably.

Jinki looks crestfallen and Minho vaguely feels as if he’s just stepped on a kitten.

“You could come with, if you like, Jinki-shii,” he suggests without really thinking about it. He’s meeting some of the Super Junior hyungs but he doesn’t think they would mind him bringing Jinki along. They’ve all wanted to meet him, after all, once they heard about the late addition to Minho’s project group.

Jinki’s eyes light up behind his glasses and Minho notices that they’re a pretty shade of brown.

“I wouldn’t want to intrude,” Jinki says, although he looks excited for no reason Minho can guess.

“I’d really like to hear you sing,” Minho tells him sincerely.

“I...sure. Yeah, okay.” Jinki outright beams at him and Minho can’t help but smile back. The look is infectious and suddenly he doesn’t feel all that awkward anymore.

“Come on.”

He leads the way back into the studio. They have to climb stairs since the practice room is on the second floor, and Minho has a minor panic attack when Jinki trips near the top. He goes down rather spectacularly, complete with flailing limbs and a loud yelp, and lands with an ominous thump. It would be comical if Minho isn’t so worried.

“Are you alright?” he exclaims, immediately bending down to put a hand on his shoulder. He isn’t sure if he should help him up or keep him still.

Jinki waves him off as he sits up, checking himself over with a routine grace that to Minho looks practiced. Miraculously, aside from being slightly askew, his glasses remain perfectly intact.

“I’m fine, I’m used to it. I fall a lot. Even broke my arm once when I fell off a bus,” says Jinki, giving him a quick smile before he continues looking for any sort of damage.

Minho stares at him, wide-eyed and maybe a little horrified.

Jinki doesn’t notice. He pokes himself in various places and then at his slightly large front teeth. “Are they crooked?” he asks, stretching his lips absurdly wide.

Without warning, even to himself, Minho bursts into laughter. He inwardly wonders if he’s gone crazy because _it’s not funny_ but he can’t seem to stop. Then he spots Jinki’s self-satisfied grin and realises that it's Jinki’s aim all along. It takes a minute to calm himself down and even then there’s this small bubble of warmth in his chest that’s never been there before. He takes a deep breath.

“Are you okay?” he asks.

Jinki nods, still smiling, chubby-cheeked and genuine. “Yeah. I’m a little clumsy so it happens sometimes.”

Minho shakes his head and straightens. He holds his hand out. “Come on. They’re waiting for us.”

Jinki doesn’t hesitate to take it and Minho pulls him up. They grin at each other before setting off, no longer awkward or shy.

Later, Minho finds himself recalling how soft Jinki’s palm is.

.~*~.

They’re cuddled up together in front of the television, swathed in a sea of blankets they’ve stolen from every corner of the apartment. It’s some sort of English comedy movie playing and they’re having fun trying to understand the words while routinely insulting the bad subtitles and even worse acting.

“Minho-ah,” Jinki whispers suddenly, completely out of place compared to the incessant chattering coming from the television.

Minho shifts minutely against his chest; Jinki discovers that he’s dozed off during the lull in their conversation. He shakes his head with a smile and rubs Minho’s shoulder to wake him. The soon-to-be lead rapper only buries his head further into Jinki’s neck, hand curling into the fabric of his shirt.

“Minho-ah,” Jinki murmurs again, threading his fingers into the soft hair that had just been cut earlier this morning. “Wake up, baby.”

Minho grunts and does nothing. Jinki chuckles and kisses the top of his head. Minho makes a content sound and finally raises his head to look at Jinki with drowsy eyes.

“Tired?” says Jinki, nuzzling his cheek.

“A little,” Minho answers, his voice muffled with the way half his face is still squashed into Jinki’s neck.

“Buck up. If you sleep now you won’t be able to sleep tonight.”

“That’s not much of a problem. I could always keep myself occupied doing other things.”

Jinki can’t help but blush when Minho leers at him. He gives him a light smack on the shoulder.

“Pervert,” he says half-heartedly. “You’ll be tired tomorrow and we can’t have that. We’re practicing on a real stage for the first time, remember?”

Minho makes a face. “I don’t want to debut.”

“You don’t mean that,” Jinki chides, but he knows exactly what Minho’s thinking. The date of their debut as SM’s newest boy band _SHINee_ is looming and frankly, he’s scared shitless.

“Mmfgh,” Minho says, tightening his grip on Jinki. “I’m scared I’ll miss a dance step and screw everything up.”

Jinki is silent for a long minute because it’s the first time Minho has ever mentioned insecurities. The rest of them are stressing daily but Minho’s always cool and calm and Jinki remembers thinking once that Minho is perfectly suited for the life of an idol. He should have known better; Minho is, after all, only 19 years old.

He resumes stroking Minho’s hair. “If you screw something up, it’ll be a disaster,” he says conversationally, feeling his lover immediately tensing at his words. “If Flaming Charisma misses a dance step, then obviously Leader Onew is going to set the stage on fire and we can all say bye-bye to SHINee’s future career.”

Minho instantly relaxes. “Your way of comforting someone is so weird,” he says, sitting up so he can lean his head against his lover’s.

Jinki smiles at the television. “I try,” he says cheerfully.

They subside into silence once more, basking in the warmth of the blankets and each other’s bodies as they concentrate on the silly movie. When the main character declares murderous intent against his best friend and starts running around with a flame-thrower, Jinki speaks again.

“I want a house.”

Minho pulls away so he can stare at him. “You want a house,” he repeats, dumbfounded.

Jinki drags him back and it’s his turn to tuck a head into the crook between neck and shoulder.

“My own place,” he elaborates, “but I don’t want just an apartment or stuff like that. I want a real house, where I can decorate with what I like and paint the colour I like and do stuff in that I like.”

Minho blinks. “Do stuff in that you like,” he says slowly.

“You know what I mean! If I want to dance around naked, I could do it without worrying about someone walking in. If I wanted to sleep in the living room, no one can nag at me like Kibum does. It’ll be _my_ place, my centre, my rules. I could be whatever I want and it’d be okay because it’s _mine_.”

“Given this a lot of thought, haven’t you?” Minho sounds a bit disbelieving.

Jinki huffs. “It’s just that I really like the thought of having a home that I made. It’d be like…my sanctuary, you know? A place I could be myself in.”

“Aren’t you too young to be thinking like this?”

Jinki chuckles. “Maybe. Or I’m just visionary.”

“About the wrong things,” says Minho solemnly. “You've still got so much ahead of you, Jinki-hyung. You’re about to debut as a superstar. There’s really no room to be thinking about something like that.”

Jinki stays quiet. Minho strokes his shoulder, worrying that maybe he’s said too much. It’s Jinki’s dream, after all, who is he to say anything against it?

“Jinki?” he prods quietly. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that.”

“It’s alright,” Jinki replies, and Minho feels the curve of his lips pressing on his skin; a smile. “I know what you mean, Minho. Right now, we’re just about to embark on what’s probably the greatest adventure of our lives. But it’s just a little dream of mine, you know? After all of this is over, what are we going to do? I’ve always thought about that. I just know for sure that I want a house.”

“When this is all over, you just want a house?” Minho questions with a smile.

Jinki cuddles closer, no offense taken. “Of course I want other things, too, but that’s the main one. I want a house. I’ve been saving up since I was a kid.”

“You’ve been saving up for a house since you were a kid?” This time, Minho is completely incredulous because _what_?

He looks down and spies a blush on Jinki’s pale cheeks. He sighs and shakes his head fondly.

“You are a very strange person,” he informs his boyfriend.

He knows Jinki is scowling at him, and smiles.

“Well,” he says easily, “I guess if it’s a house you want, then it’s a house you’ll get.”

It is Jinki’s turn to draw back and stare at him. Minho reaches a hand out and strokes his cheek.

“I could warm up to the idea,” he says softly, “I rather like imagining the two of us cozied up in our own little spot, no one else coming round to bother us and drag us out bed.”

Jinki gapes and Minho realises he’s completely whipped because that expression shouldn’t be as attractive as he thinks it is.

Jinki finally speaks. “You’re serious, aren’t you?”

Minho raises an eyebrow. “Unless you’re about to tell me that you were making it all up. In that case, I’ll just adopt your idea and make it mine and you’ll have to deal with it anyway.”

Jinki can’t stop staring; there’s warmth spreading in his chest, pulsing gently in the way his heart does whenever Minho smiles at him.

“The two of us,” he echoes faintly as the image forms in his mind, of them curled up just like this on a Sunday morning lie-in, exchanging small kisses as the dawning sun pours in light through the curtains. He shivers; a new hunger is growing inside him and he knows he likes this thought a lot more than is appropriate.

Because this is new. He’s only gotten to known Minho intimately for about a year; there’s never been even a hint of the word ‘forever’. But what’s compelling is that he can _see_ it, that image is infinitely clear as everything else, even though he doesn’t really know Minho well enough for something like this to be certain. He’s still not sure if this dream is possible.

Does Minho even realise what he’s implying?

“If you’re up to a little change to your original dream.” Minho smirks at him but somehow Jinki senses the tentativeness, the question underlying his tone.

“I wouldn’t mind,” Jinki says after a moment, “Not at all.” He really wouldn’t. The warmth spreads out a little more and he wonders if his lover can feel it on his skin.

Minho beams at him, reminding Jinki for a moment who’s the older one in this relationship, and drags him back into a hug. “Good,” he declares, “Because I’ve just thought up another benefit other than privacy.”

“Oh? What’s that?” Jinki queries in amusement. He willingly snuggles against the other boy, banishing away any lingering doubt. He isn’t sure if this, _them_ , has even a candle’s chance of working out for the long run. But what he does know is that he loves the feel of Minho’s arms wrapping him up close, strong and yet seeking comfort all at once, a steady anchor in what will soon be a whirlwind world of celebrity.

“When we get our new house, we can stake our claim by having sex in every single room.”

Jinki is instantly on his knees, brandishing the biggest pillow within his reach, and starts to smack Minho as hard as he can with it. Minho screeches at him in a remarkable impersonation of Kibum and all out war is struck. Feathers begin to fly and squeals permeate the air, delighted laughter following immediately after. They roll around on the blankets until Jinki has Minho firmly pinned underneath him, straddling his hips.

Minho doesn’t struggle, gracefully admitting defeat, to which he gets a disbelieving eyebrow in return. He winds his arms around Jinki’s waist and pulls him down so he can reach his lips.

Jinki swats half-heartedly at him but comes without much resistance.

“Do you have to do that every single time you see a chance?” he says breathlessly when Minho allows him up for air.

“Never an opportunity wasted,” Minho answers primly, pushing Jinki off until they’re lying side by side before he tangles their legs together. Jinki looks at him with that breath-taking smile and sparkling chocolate eyes he’s beginning to fall for.

Minho reminds himself to plan the amount he should set aside in his savings each month so that one day he could make Jinki’s—no, _their_ dream come true.

.~*~.

The year Jinki turns 32 and Minho 30 is when they finally achieve that dream.

The house isn’t large but it does have two floors and an attic. It’s been completely remade since they first bought it with their combined savings. The living room on the upper floor doubles up as a den. It’s huge and painted powder pink, the ornately carved ceiling left white and the fixtures in creamy shades. There are three bedrooms; the master bedroom has peach walls with yellow and red furnishings, while the other two are made up entirely in various shades of blue. The two bathrooms are left as they are other than a thorough cleaning that leaves everything shining.

The floor are dark wood boards set against each other, leading down the sturdy staircase with a polished banister into the hall that stretches straight to the foyer and front door. The guest room on the right is white, various paintings and photo frames covering the walls to deplete the starkness with strange plastic vases in the corners. The floor here is wood as well, although a lighter colour than out in the hall.

The dining room on the left is small and the round table can fit five people at most. The adjacent kitchen has been entirely restructured from its previously droll state. Cupboards and cabinets lining sunflower-yellow walls are leafy green to match the fitted sea-green tiles, glistening when sunlight falls from enormous oak-paned windows. The white countertop housing the stove and oven stretches across half the room, dividing it into two spaces.

It’s in here that Minho finds Jinki. He’s balanced precariously on a tipped chair, head-deep in one of the ceiling cupboards doing God-knows what. It’s with a sense of exasperation that Minho watches when the chair Jinki is standing on, one leg supporting his weight while the other is bent at the knee bobbing slightly behind him, gives and begins to fall.

Jinki yelps, head popping into view and arms flailing in that weird dance he does when he’s panicking. Minho’s there in moments and the chair smashes into the tiles with an ominous ‘thunk!’. Jinki, on the other hand, is safe and sound in Minho’s arms where he’d been caught before he could tumble into disaster. He peeks out from beneath tightly shut eyelids, catching sight of his feet braced against the cabinet edge and the way his body is cradled close to someone’s chest.

Minho’s staring at him with a dry expression that’s woefully familiar.

“Hi,” Jinki greets, summoning up his best smile.

Minho rolls his eyes and sets him on the ground. Jinki pretends to wobble and clutches at him again, pressing himself unashamedly against Minho. The amused glint appearing in dark eyes tells him that he’s fooling no one.

“My hero,” the older man says, beaming up at his lover.

Minho laughed. “I feel like that’s all I’ve been since I started dating you,” he replies, wrapping his own arms around Jinki’s waist.

“It’s a full-time job, Minho-ah.” Jinki pats Minho’s cheek. “You should’ve known that from the start.”

“I thought I knew what I was getting myself into,” says Minho with a grin and presses their foreheads together to make his point. “That’s the spell of love, it makes you blind.”

Jinki hums in agreement, closing his eyes and enjoying the way it feels to have Minho holding him like this.

“Although I really would like it better if you’d be more careful, Jinki,” Minho says, drawing back to gaze at his lover in renewed disapproval.

Jinki shrugs, says, “I’m much better than I used to be. I haven’t needed the hospital in ages.”

“That’s comforting,” Minho mutters, and he’s only half sarcastic.

Jinki smiles up at him. “It’s an improvement though.”

“What were you doing anyway?”

Jinki arches slightly as Minho begins to massage his back, his hands creeping under the old t-shirt to rub circles into his skin. He thinks he knows what Minho is doing – of course he knows – but he humours him anyway.

“I was cleaning the inside,” he answers, gesturing at the cupboard. “There was still some dust left.”

“I thought it was all cleaned up after they installed everything.”

“I guess they missed some parts.” Jinki is forced to push himself even harder against Minho as those hands become a bit more insistent, running up his sides with thumbs stroking over his abs with obvious intent.

“You know,” says Minho, his dark eyes glimmering with mirth and something more primal, “I don’t think we’ve ever done it in here yet.”

“The kitchen, too?” Jinki questions with amusement. “I didn’t think you were serious when you said you wanted to do it in every room.”

“It’s the best way to get familiar with new surroundings,” Minho says, as though his words are completely logical, “and anyway, I didn’t mean every room.”

“Oh?” Jinki moans softly when Minho’s hands creep down to squeeze his backside. Not willing to let him have all the fun, he dips his fingers into the back of Minho’s worn-out jeans, caressing the taut skin he knows to be a sensitive spot.

Minho hisses. “I was aiming more for every surface,” he murmurs, beginning to herd Jinki against the cabinets.

Jinki laughs, hopping onto the nearest horizontal surface and pulling Minho back against him. “In that case, we have a lot of work ahead of us,” he whispers wickedly into his ear, darting his tongue out for a little lick.

Minho outright groans and drags him in for a kiss.

.~*~.

Even though SHINee has now been retired, Onew Sangtae is still kicking and screaming. Throughout the day, Minho bears witness to more than one incident that makes him wish he could buy full body armour and make Jinki wear it for his own safety.

He can only watch helplessly, too amused to do anything else, as Jinki walks right into the doorjamb on his way to the parlour. While he’s busy measuring the area their patio will take up, he hears a worrying crash from upstairs and hightails over only to find Jinki on his stomach in the bedroom, a spilled box of personal affects he’d been carrying scattered around him after he’d tripped over the rug. He’s had to yank Jinki out of the way when his lover accidentally bumped into the ladder, bringing down an entire box of tools set on the top rung.

So it’s horrendously ironic when Minho is the one who ends up seriously hurt.

He’s in the small garden behind the house, cutting wood they’re going to use for the patio floor, when he miscalculates and ends up sawing through half his hand. His pained scream brings Jinki to his side in moments, frantic but steady, dragging a cringing Minho into the bathroom right across the backdoor.

They have a fully-stocked medical cabinet, of course, and Jinki snatches the first-aid box out as he instructs Minho to sit on the toilet bowl. His movements are jerky but he’s quick and soon he’s kneeling in front of his lover, holding the bleeding hand as carefully as possible.

Minho is completely tense; he’s gritting his teeth and his face is white, tears rolling down. He doesn’t want to cry, he wants to stop because he isn’t a baby but the pain is almost blinding and he feels like his hand is about to fall off with the way his entire arm won’t stop shaking and, really, he can’t help himself. He settles for staying silent as Jinki looks over the wound.

Jinki clucks like a mother hen while he examines the cut, wincing at how deep it is as he briefly considers driving Minho to the hospital. He puts the thought away for the moment; right now, he needs to clean and bandage the wound so it won’t get infected. He whispers reassurances as he sets to work, listening to each controlled hiss of pain above him with a grim twist to his lips, and does his best to fix the damage.

Luckily, he’s well-versed in medical care and soon he has the hand bandaged neatly. He knows the bleeding isn’t going to stop yet because the metal had cut through an artery – maybe the hospital might be a good idea after all – but Minho nods his thanks and keeps still, cradling the hand to his chest.

Jinki gazes at him for a long moment then lays his head on Minho’s thighs, bending his body forward so he can squeeze Minho’s waist. His lover tenses further then relaxes, his uninjured hand coming to stroke through Jinki’s hair.

“You’re confined to the living room couch,” Jinki tells him, his voice just slightly muffled. “And I’m calling someone professional to finish the patio. I told you it was a bad idea.”

Minho doesn’t answer.

Jinki stands and leads Minho upstairs, leaving him on the sofa while he makes a call to Jonghyun.

“I’ll be there with Taemin after dinner,” his old friend promises. “And I’ll tell Kibum.”

Jinki curls up into Minho’s side after that, placing his head on his shoulder as he delicately sets the injured hand into his lap. They stay quiet for a few moments before Minho finally speaks.

“I’m not an invalid, you know,” he says with a trace of rancour. “I still have legs.”

“And a worried boyfriend who won’t stop fussing over you until he’s sure you’re not about to go do something stupid just because he’s not an invalid,” Jinki counters. He expected this.

“I’m not an idiot.”

“Yes, you are. You should have listened to me.”

“I don’t see why we should waste money on something we could do on our own.”

“Next time,” Jinki bites out, sitting up and pointing at the bandaged limb he’s holding ever so tenderly, “the whole thing might come _off_ , Minho.”

Minho looks away, mostly because he wants to pretend he can’t feel the throbbing. “You’re being dramatic.”

“The first time you said you’d be completely fine and look where that got you.”

Minho frowns but he knows better than to argue when Jinki speaks in that tone. His lover is shaking his head and dropping it back onto Minho’s shoulder.

“Sheesh,” he mutters, “You’re always fussing over me. Don’t be a hypocrite and pretend this doesn’t matter, okay?”

Minho holds his ground for a total of thirty seconds before his resolve breaks and he sags against Jinki’s side.

“It hurts,” he admits quietly.

“I know.” Jinki kisses his cheek. “But it’s getting better, isn’t it?”

“Yeah. Tomorrow, I’ll be as good as new.”

“In your dreams,” Jinki replies without missing a blink. “You’re not moving from this spot tomorrow. I called the others; they’re staying over. One of them will keep an eye on you for me while the rest of us finish up the house.”

Minho grumbles at him – he doesn’t need a babysitter, dammit – but Jinki is having none of it.

“Deal with it,” he snaps and forces Minho to drop the subject.

They watch a little television after that, the air between somewhat strained despite their positions and finally Minho can’t take it anymore. He knows exactly what’s bothering Jinki and he’s rather tired of beating around the bush like this. He sighs and looks down at his lover, who senses his gaze but refuses to meet it.

“I’ll be fine,” Minho says after a short pause.

Jinki turns and buries his face into his shoulder. “You could’ve taken your whole hand off.”

“I didn’t, though. And next time I’ll be more careful.”

“There isn’t going to be a next time, Minho.”

“Jinki, you can’t coddle me forever.”

“I could try,” Jinki murmurs in a sulky voice that succeeds in making Minho smile. He presses a kiss on the crown of his head.

“You know better than that. I know you’re worried but you can’t fuss over me forever. I’m a big boy after all. You said the same thing yourself, remember?”

Jinki shifts. “Yeah,” he says, his body finally relaxing. “It’s just...you scared the hell out of me when I heard you screaming.”

“I wasn’t screaming!” Minho protests.

The corner of Jinki’s lips quirk up but all he says is: “I’m glad you’re okay.”

Minho smiles softly and kisses him in response. “Yeah,” he whispers, snuggling even closer to his lover, “Yeah.”

.~*~.

“That is the ugliest vase I have ever seen.”

Jinki sighs and briefly considers hurling said ugly vase at Kibum’s head. “No matter what you say, I’m still keeping it. Leave it alone.”

“But it’s an insult to human eyes!” Kibum exclaims, following Jinki out of the room. “ _My_ eyes. Every time I visit I’ll be forced to subject myself to that...that horror! Seriously, Jinki-hyung, some sentiments just aren’t worth it.”

If Jinki’s perfectly honest, he thinks the vase is hideous but it was his mother’s and for him, that’s that.

“And why pink? _Pink_! Honestly, hyung, you don’t have a single design bone in your body. You should’ve left the choices up to a professional or someone who at least _knows_ about these things. You know, like _me_.”

Jinki sends Kibum a dirty look. “I like pink,” he says succinctly, “And didn’t I assign you to watch over Minho?”

“He’s a big boy, he can take care of himself.” Kibum waves a hand dismissively. “Anyway, Taemin-ah’s with him.”

Jinki pauses at that then shrugs; he doubts they can cause much trouble when he’s expressly forbidden either of them from stepping a foot downstairs.

“Where’s Jonghyun?” he asks Kibum as they begin to descend the stairs.

“Uh, with Taeminnie, I think. Now, hyung, I think the guest room would look way better if you painted the walls—”

Jinki sighs in exasperation although it’s not devoid of some affection. He’s been having this argument with Kibum since the rest of SHINee first found out about his and Minho’s plans to buy a house together. It’s getting old, but it’s comforting in its own way. He has no doubt that it isn’t going to stop even years later.

“I like what you did to the kitchen,” Kibum says ten minutes later, as they’re unpacking the plates and utensils.

“I’m honoured,” Jinki drones.

Kibum pouts but before he can reply Jonghyun’s excited voice cuts through the air.

“Hey! Minho, get back here!”

Jinki is on his feet instantly. By the time Minho reaches the foot of the stairs, Jinki’s there, arms crossed and a dangerous look on his face. Minho retreats up a step on instinct.

“What?” he says defensively.

Jinki doesn’t humour him. “I told you to stay put.”

“Jinki, I can’t just sit around and do nothing. You know me better than that.”

“Exactly. _I know you_. If I let you go around, you’ll start trying to help.”

Behind Minho, Taemin sits at the top of the stairs and makes faces at Kibum, who’s doing everything he can to keep from laughing. Jonghyun, who’s standing right beside Taemin, isn’t doing a very good job of the same thing. None of them sees fit to let the couple have their privacy because this is the sort of show that kept them going through ridiculously long hours of recording. Minho and Jinki ignores all three of them.

“I wouldn’t do that,” Minho is saying, a little sullen.

“Yes, you would,” Jinki counters immediately. “And then who knows what kind of trouble you could get into with that hand, and if something does happen, I’m carting you off straight to the hospital no matter what you say.”

Minho stares at him, eyes wide, because Jinki only ever sounds like that when he’s _utterly_ serious.

“Jinki, it’s just a hand,” he implores.

Jinki points at Taemin and Jonghyun, or rather the way they’re currently blocking. “Up,” he orders.

Grumbling, Minho turns and stomps his way back up to the den. Jonghyun and Taemin quickly back off to escape the mini rampage. Jinki waits until his lover is no longer in sight and then returns to the kitchen. Kibum trails behind him, snickering.

“I don’t think anyone will ever win the betting pool about who wears the pants in your relationship,” he comments, always refreshingly blunt.

Jinki rolls his eyes and turns so his long-time friend can’t see his smile. “Help me unpack the dishes,” he says instead.

“Ugh, you sound like a housewife.” Still, Kibum comes over anyway and begin to take out the dishware from one of the boxes. “How long do you think before Minho tries to come back down?”

“Seven minutes. Tops.”

Kibum laughs.

.~*~.

“Have you ever looked at someone,” Minho begins a few days later, as he and Jonghyun lounge on the newly-finished patio, watching Jinki, Kibum and Taemin battle the backyard plant life, “and felt overwhelmed by how much you love them?”

Jonghyun turns to him and takes a moment to compose an appropriate reply. “Did you overdose on your medicine?”

Minho kicks in his direction but Jonghyun dodges neatly with a laugh. “I’m serious,” snaps the former rapper.

“Hell, Minho, you can’t ask me a question like that and _not_ expect me to make fun of you for it. Do I look like Kibum?”

Minho shakes his head. He glances down at his hand, the one he had injured. Jinki had lovingly wrapped it that morning, informing him that it would be the last time he needed it. He’d dropped a kiss on the spot of the cut, while Minho watched on with warm eyes.

“Sometimes I wonder how I got so lucky,” he says now, looking back towards the trio.

Jonghyun makes a questioning noise that clearly encourages him to explain.

“When Jinki and I first got together, I never actually thought we’d last so long,” Minho elaborates. “In fact, I wasn’t even sure us being together in the first place was a good idea.”

Jonghyun snorts at that. “Tell me about it,” he says drily. “It’s so weird, and I’m still surprised management turned a blind eye.”

Minho glares at him. “Our relationship is not weird.”

“I meant the fact no one tried to break you up, idiot. Even you have to admit the odds were against you two being able to stay together. We had a lot of stress just being the perfect idols; add in how you had to be careful keeping things under wraps, it was a lot of pressure. Not a lot of people could have gone through without problems.”

“We did have problems,” Minho reminds him. “We took a break after SHINee’s fifth anniversary, remember? It lasted nearly half a year. I even dated other people.”

“But you got back together again,” Jonghyun says dismissively. “You got through it safe and sound.”

Minho laughs softly. “It was the first time he said he loved me,” he says, eyes a little distant as he recalls that moment. “I was so surprised. I didn’t even say it back.”

Jonghyun leans on the porch, gazing at Minho with a strange expression. “You guys were together for more than five years,” he starts, “and you never once said you loved each other?”

“I thought about it, but I couldn’t be sure. I mean, who knows, really? It’s not like I’d ever been in love before. I didn’t want to say it until I stopped doubting myself.”

Jonghyun nods thoughtfully. “When were you sure?”

Surprised by the question, Minho takes a moment to answer. “I was miserable throughout that break,” he finally says. “I kept missing everything we used to do together as a couple. I mean, the break put a strain on our group dynamic, remember? I tried to distract myself with seeing other people but it didn’t work well. I kept comparing the people I dated to Jinki, and no one was ever good enough. I pretty much knew it had to be love, then.”

“But he said it first?”

“Yeah. I mean, we were talking after our fight, and he just laid it on me. I must’ve looked ridiculous, I was gaping and everything, but then he hugged me and said it again. For some reason my throat got stuck so I just hugged him back.”

Minho smiles. It shouldn’t be but that’s one of his favourite memories. He can remember perfectly the elation sweeping through him when he’d held Jinki close for the first time in half a year. He’d felt so warm and perfect in Minho’s arms, and Minho had promised himself that he would never let him go again.

“You have that stupid look on your face again,” Jonghyun informs him.

Minho ignores him. He looks over at Jinki again, who catches his eye. Jinki beams at him and waves madly, forgetting for a moment that he’s holding a spade he’d just stuck into a pile of manure. Bits of formula fly everywhere, causing Taemin and Kibum to shriek like banshees as they attempt to flee the onslaught. Jinki yelps and quickly lowers his arm, looking horrified at what he’s done.

Beside him, Jonghyun roars with laughter.

Minho grins and waves back. The question he’d asked Jonghyun drifts across his mind and he has an answer for himself.

He feels like that each time he sees Jinki smiling at him.

.~*~.

“It’s going to look gorgeous, hyung,” says Taemin, gazing up at the house in awe.

Minho allows himself a smile of pride. “Of course,” he says, dipping the brush into the paint and raising it to the mailbox. After two days of wheedling and whining and threats of withholding sex, Jinki had finally relented and allowed Minho to start working around the house again. Of course, it’s still only light chores but Minho doesn’t mind—he’d been going silently crazy up there in the den with nothing to do but listen to Jonghyun practicing his debut solo.

“Careful,” Taemin cautions when Minho hisses, having accidentally used his injured hand to steady the mailbox, “Here, I’ll hold it. Are you okay?”

“You know, I think I’m finally starting to understand why Jinki’s always so grumpy when people ask him that,” Minho comments dryly, allowing his younger friend to take hold of the metal. “It’s driving me slightly crazy. It’s just a cut, Taemin-ah.”

“Not a very nice one, from what I saw when Jinki-hyung changed your bandage. I’m surprised you didn’t need stitches.”

“It wasn’t that bad. Now shut up about it and hold still.”

Taemin shuffles closer so he can stand more comfortably as Minho begins to paint the mailbox purple. “Is there a reason why you and Jinki-hyung are being so...multi-coloured?”

“We saw a movie a few years ago that had a house with tonnes of colours. It looked nice and, you know, cozy, so we thought we’d try to do the same thing.”

“What movie was that?”

“Up. The one with the helium balloons and talking dogs?”

Taemin snorts out a surprised laugh. “Seriously? You’re renovating your house because you saw a cartoon?”

Minho’s smiling. “It was the only thing we could agree on.”

Taemin shakes his head in amusement. “I knew you were perfect for each other,” he said, his voice going soft. “Jonghyun-hyung didn’t believe me at first, but I knew it.”

Minho turns to look at him, and his smile is bright, thankful. Before he can say anything, however, Jinki’s voice calls out to them.

“Taemin-ah! Can you please get Jonghyun and Kibum out of my kitchen? They’re raiding my pantry!”

Minho and Taemin grin at each other as Jinki steps out of the front door, scowling rather prominently. He stalks up to them.

“Right away, Jinki-hyung,” says their once-youngest band member teasingly. He gives Minho a wink and disappears around the side of the house.

“You know, he’s probably just going to join them,” Minho points out, grinning as Jinki comes over to take Taemin’s place.

Jinki smiles lazily and leans forward over the mailbox, careful to avoid the parts Minho has just painted, to land a kiss on Minho’s mouth. “I know,” he says, “I just wanted to get you to myself for a few minutes.”

“Is that so?” Minho’s visibly amused at this, and he straightens so he could secure a few more kisses. He hums in appreciation. “Hmm, sneaky.”

“Does it bother you?” Jinki murmurs, his lips peppering pecks over Minho’s jaw. He’s aware that they’re in public but at times like this, he can’t bring himself to care as much as he should. Ten years of hiding their relationship out of necessity has caused them to savour every moment of being open like this. It’s a little heady to know they can now do it all the time.

“Definitely, if bother is synonymous with exciting.” Minho forgets himself for a moment and leans closer—and immediately curses as the elbow he’s placed on the mailbox comes off sticky with newly-applied paint.

Jinki starts to laugh.

“Damn,” Minho grumbles, wiping fruitlessly on his old shirt to get rid of the purple. He brandishes the brush he’s still holding, jabbing it forward and narrowly misses landing a hit on Jinki.

“Don’t you dare!” his lover warns in a gasp of a giggle, flushed with glee even as he dances away. “If I’m purple anywhere, you’ll look like a colourful zebra by the time I’m done with you.”

Minho grimaces at him, the annoyance fading in the face of Jinki’s delight. He gives up on his elbow and instead drops the brush, reaching over to snatch the other man’s collar. He drags Jinki close so they can kiss again. Jinki doesn’t resist, still laughing, the taste of happiness strong on his tongue.

“Taemin-ah said he knew that we were perfect for each other,” Minho informs him when they part.

Jinki hums in appreciation, stepping around the mailbox so he can wrap his arms around Minho’s waist, unmindful of the paint stains on his clothes. “I knew that from the very start,” he says, smiling.

That makes Minho beam. They stand there for a few minutes, just kissing and enjoying the peace, until a minor commotion in the house forces them out of it. Minho sighs.

“I should go get cleaned up and find out what that crashing noise was,” he says reluctantly.

Jinki only lets go of his hand when Minho’s distance makes it necessary but he doesn’t look away until Minho is gone. Jinki turns to the mailbox then, appraising it, quietly amused by the slash of green – the mailbox’s original colour – marring relatively smooth purple. He contemplates it for a while before grinning.

He heads up to the house to see if they have any green paint. If he remembers correctly, Kibum can draw nice doves.

.~*~.

“Jinki-hyung?”

“What?”

“That vase really was ugly.”

“Since you feel that way, Kibummie, I’m sure you’ll have no problem being the one to explain to my mother how it broke.”

.~*~.

Jonghyun is the one who brings the topic up.

“Are you going to get a pet?” he asks, as he tries to figure out how to work the newly-installed security system.

Minho’s entire face darkens. “Shh!” he hisses, looking around furtively. “Don’t say it out loud.”

Jonghyun stares at him as if Minho’s lost his mind. “What?”

“Jinki could hear you.”

“And that’s bad because...?”

Minho scowls. “We’ve argued about it,” he says reluctantly. “He wants a dog, but I don’t.”

“Why not?”

“Well, for one, the last time we tried to take care of one, it turned into a disaster.”

Jonghyun can’t help it; he grins. “You mean when the last puppy made your bed its toilet?”

Minho’s scowl deepens. “It’s not funny. It isn’t easy taking care of any pet, especially a dog. I don’t want one. We fought and it didn’t end well.”

“Well, if your reason is just because you’re still traumatised, no wonder he won’t accept it.”

Minho turns away. “It’s final,” he states.

“Says you.”

Jonghyun winces and looks over his shoulder to see Jinki coming out into the hall. He quickly turns back to the security pad and wonders how fast he can finish and get out of there.

“We talked about it,” says Minho to Jinki.

His lover crosses his arms, the same way he does whenever he’s gearing up for a fight. “No, we argued about it, and you walked out,” he says flatly.

“It’s not up for discussion, Jinki. I don’t want any kind of pet.”

“You still haven’t explained why.”

“Well, for one, we’d have to look after it. Constantly. We’d have to look out for the places it decides to poop, we have to clean it, we have to feed it. It takes a lot of responsibility to take care of a pet.”

“So you’re saying I’m not responsible.”

Jonghyun winces and tries to rush his work. He glances over to see Minho and Jinki facing each other, neither willing to relent. He recognises that pose. It spells disaster.

“No,” says Minho. “I’m just saying I don’t think we have the dedication for it.”

“You don’t know that,” Jinki points out. “It’s not like you’ve actually taken care of a pet before. It’s a lot easier when you get used to it.”

“I took care of my brother’s dog for a few days and it trashed the entire house. I’d say that’s enough for me.”

“Oh, come on, one dog isn’t the representative for every single animal on Earth. If you don’t want a dog, we can get a cat. I like cats, they’re just as loving as dogs and they’re independent, too.”

“Cats shed their fur and scratch every available surface they can get their claws on. No.”

“Minho,” says Jinki, and his voice rises a little in annoyance, “until you give me a reason that’s actually reasonable, I’m going to get a pet whether you like or not.”

“I’ve given you lots of good reasons already! You’re the one being unreasonable because _you_ want one.”

“I’m not being unreasonable, _you’re_ being biased. Just because you had one or two bad experiences doesn’t mean everything will end up the same way!”

“I said no and that’s the end of it,” says Minho, a tone of finality in his voice.

Jonghyun wonders if it’s over. Jinki rarely argues when Minho is like this. Then again, Jinki can be just as stubborn when he thinks he has cause.

“I don’t remember anyone making you the boss of me,” he says, eyes narrowing in challenge. “If I want a pet, I can damn well get one without your approval.”

“We live in the same house, Jinki. You know better.”

“And you know better than to make decisions based on just what you want.”

Jonghyun mentally cheers when he finally finishes with the security system. He scribbles the combination, placing it on the closest surface, and quickly makes himself scarce. Just as he is about to enter the kitchen, he hears:

“I don’t see why you’re so opposed to having a pet when you love kids as much as you do,” Jinki is saying, “I mean, basically, it’s the same thing.”

Jonghyun can picture Minho’s face right about now, and locks the door behind him. Kibum and Taemin, who have been chatting over the counter, look up at his entrance with curiosity on their faces.

“What’s wrong with you?” says Kibum with amusement, noting the harried look Jonghyun is sporting.

The upcoming solo singer grimaces. “Fight,” is all he needs to say.

Taemin jumps to his feet and crosses to the door so he can press his ear against it. Jonghyun manhandles him back to the counter.

“Hey!” Taemin protests. “I want to hear what’s going on.”

“They’re fighting about getting a pet,” Jonghyun tells him. “Jinki-hyung wants one, Minho doesn’t.”

Kibum raises an eyebrow. “That’s it?” he says disbelievingly.

“Well, you always did say they fought like an old married couple. I heard old married couples fight about the stupidest thing.”

Taemin grins. “Which one’s the nagging wife?”

Jonghyun snorts. “This time, I definitely say it’s Jinki, although Minho isn’t exactly the brow-beaten husband.”

All three glance over when the unmistakable sound of shouting voices is heard through the thick wood of the kitchen door.

“They’re going all out, I see,” Kibum observes dryly.

“I don’t know how you can fight that bad about getting a pet,” Taemin says, shaking his head. “How’d it start anyway? Jinki-hyung was in here with us and then he went over to check on Minho-hyung’s hand but he just stopped for a bit at the door before going in.”

Jonghyun makes a face again. “I sort of asked Minho if he and Jinki-hyung were thinking of getting a pet,” he confesses. “Minho was all ‘Don’t say it so loud’ since he was scared Jinki might hear. Apparently they’ve fought about it before, but Jinki-hyung heard anyway.”

“So if they break up after more than ten long years of being in a loving and committed relationship over a disagreement about pets, it’ll be totally your fault,” Kibum says to him, perfectly solemn.

Jonghyun reaches over the counter to smack him. “That isn’t funny!”

Taemin doesn’t agree. He’s bent over laughing his head off at the look on Jonghyun’s face. Jonghyun glares at him but it falters when the voices on the other side of the door reach epic proportions in terms of volume.

Kibum whistles, impressed. “I haven’t heard them this loud since that time they took a break and Minho dated that girl idol—I forgot her real name. I can still remember how mad Jinki-hyung got.”

“It was like a volcano exploding,” Taemin adds with a shudder.

“Well, Minho wasn’t exactly the picture of serenity either,” says Jonghyun pointedly. “He didn’t think Jinki-hyung had any reason to be angry since they were taking a break.”

“Honestly, they’re both complete idiots,” Kibum states matter-of-factly. “I envy them so much sometimes.”

Jonghyun doesn’t even wonder anymore; Kibum wouldn’t be Kibum if he didn’t contradict himself every twelve seconds. “Should we leave?” he questions instead.

Taemin gives him a look. “As if,” he says with a snort. “I want to see how long they can go.”

It’s at that exact moment they realise that everything has gone silent outside the kitchen.

“They stopped,” says Kibum after a pause. “Did they move somewhere else?”

“Maybe they made up?” Taemin suggests uncertainly.

Jonghyun turns horror-filled eyes on him. “Please tell me they’re not trying to make up the way I think they are,” he whispers.

SHINee’s former magnae shoves him off his stool and towards the door. “Go see!” he hisses.

“What? No way! I’m not risking myself that way _again_.”

Kibum points imperiously at the door. “Do it, or my boot is going somewhere you do not want it to travel to.”

Jonghyun hates, _hates_ the both of them. Muttering curses under his breath, he moves towards the kitchen door. He pauses in front of it, trepidation in every twitch of his fingers inching towards the knob. He seriously hopes what he’s dreading is not happening right now; he’s scarred enough as it is.

When he peeks out, the first thing he sees is Minho pushed up against the wall right across from the kitchen door. Jinki is pressed against him and they’re kissing aggressively, hands flying everywhere, various items of clothing littering the hardwood floor. There is the sound of low grunting and gasps in time with the frantic movements of rutting hips. Neither Minho nor Jinki notice they have an audience.

Jonghyun slams the door shut and sinks to the floor. He desperately wishes he could burn his eyes out.

“Well?” asks Kibum. “What are they doing?”

Jonghyun dashes for the bathroom before he ends up puking all over the place.

There never is a final verdict on the pet argument.

.~*~.

A week passes and the house is complete. Jinki and Minho hold a housewarming party and invite all their friends and families, along with their neighbours. Considering their past fame, the guest list comprises of some (or rather, many) very well-known names, and as such the party features flocks of fans crowding the streets, just feet away from actually trespassing on the premises.

Used to it, the people inside are having a booming time. Those that had been involved with the renovations – read: the other three former members of SHINee – are proudly giving grand tours and mingling around. Food and drinks are set out on practically every surface and anything breakable has been left unpacked mainly because of the party. Jinki and Minho somehow manage to know where the other is despite being both being pulled around by practically everyone who wants a piece of them.

“I hate to follow the crowd, but I _am_ pretty curious,” the man of the minute, or better known as Cho Kyuhyun, is saying. He typically manages to make sipping apple juice while sprawled rather gracelessly on the couch look photo shoot worthy.

Jinki wonders how cool Kyuhyun will manage to look if he knows how many times Minho and Jinki have made love on that couch.

“Well?” Kyuhyun says, leaning forward with a smirk, “You and Minho both retired from show biz, you ended your contracts and collected your entire revenue. So what _are_ you going to do now?”

Jinki has known Kyuhyun for a very long time so he knows that Kyuhyun is more concerned than curious. Like many other teenage idols, Jinki and Minho took courses in college that’s based in the entertainment business. But they’re now no longer a part of it and they don’t have many choices left. Knowing that, they had both sat down one day to discuss their priorities and what kind of future would be best for them, even going so far as to consider separate ones, until they finally agreed that they didn’t want to be stars forever.

When they had announced their decision to retire, there were protests from all relevant (and non-relevant) corners, from management to acquaintances. In fact, the only people who hadn’t questioned their decision had been their fellow SHINee members; Jinki and Minho suspected it was because the three had known it was coming. Neither of them had been sure how to deal with that, so they counted their blessings and didn’t mention it.

Now, Jinki sits there and contemplates the decision he and Minho has made, and he realises he can’t find a single reason to regret it.

“Minho’s going to open a sports shop,” he tells Kyuhyun. “His dad suggested it and he thought it was a great idea. He’s rented a shop lot and found a supplier. Kibum’s designing how the shop looks like and Taemin said he’ll mention it when he promotes his new drama. I think it’ll turn out pretty good actually.”

Kyuhyun looks impressed. “That sounds great,” he says genuinely. “You know, if you need a sponsor, you have my number.”

Jinki smiles at him and reaches over to give his hand a squeeze. Kyuhyun isn’t the first person to offer, and he feels really lucky to have so many good friends. “Thanks, hyung.”

“What about you?”

He hesitates. “I actually just got a job at a paper as a columnist.”

Kyuhyun doesn’t falter, unlike quite a few of the others. He doesn’t stare, either, the way his parents had when he’d brought up the topic a few days ago. All he does is sit there, drinking his juice with a thoughtful look on his face.

“Sounds like it’d be interesting,” he comments, “I remember you saying once that you weren’t the type of person who’d go for a nine-to-five job.”

“Yeah,” Jinki confirms with a small nod. “I’d be bored to tears in the first week.”

“What happened to travelling?”

“I thought about it, but Minho and I decided we could try that when we’re a lot older. Like, 50 years old type of older.”

Kyuhyun laughs at that. “Assuming you still want to, of course.”

Jinki shrugs, smiles. He doesn’t really care now that he has pretty much everything that makes him happy.

“I didn’t know you like to write,” is what Kyuhyun says next, but he doesn’t look surprised.

“I used to do it as a hobby but I didn’t have the time after SHINee debuted. I was an editor in my high school.”

Kyuhyun nods, mulling it over. Then, “Make sure you tell me which paper you’re sending. It’ll be interesting to see what you write about. It could be like a new corner for my and Hyunjae-hyung’s radio, insulting your column every Saturday.”

Jinki shoves him but laughs anyway.

.~*~.

Taemin is someone who looks like an angel but says things that make you snap your head towards him so fast your neck feels like you’ve just literally tried to yank it off your body.

“What?” Minho stares, wide-eyed.

Taemin doesn’t miss a beat. “Are you completely sure there isn’t a way to get Jinki-hyung or you pregnant?”

Minho feels a little as if someone has just cut off his air. “Have you been doing drugs?” he manages to make out after a minute of scrambling his brain cells back together.

Taemin actually looks offended at Minho’s – frankly serious – question. “I have not! It’s a valid question, hyung.”

“Of _course_ I’m completely sure, Taemin-ah, we’re both _men_ , in case you haven’t noticed.”

“Oh no, I noticed. More times than I would’ve liked, but I have no doubt whatsoever.”

“Ugh.” Minho wants to scream for Jinki, except Jonghyun’s dragged him off somewhere and now that he’s thinking about it, Minho wonders if this is a set up. Divide and conquer; he should’ve known. He supposes he should be glad Kibum isn’t the one asking questions otherwise he wouldn’t even have a fighting chance.

“Anyway, you don’t think there’s even the smallest chance?”

Minho stares at him again. “You did hear me the first time, right?”

“Well, you never know,” says Taemin sagely.

“Taemin-ah,” Minho says a little weakly, “We don’t exactly have the right equipment or, well, the capabilities, if you remember how reproduction actually operates.”

Taemin shrugs. “Then how about surrogates? You could put an ad in the paper, or even find some professional people online. The prices don’t seem out of your range.”

Minho is slightly creeped out over the fact that Taemin seems to have done research about this. He grimaces. “No.”

“Adoption, then?”

“What is this about?” Minho asks, thoroughly bewildered.

“Don’t you want kids?”

He really should have seen that coming, yet Minho still finds himself struck speechless. He stares at his friend, thoughts and feelings racing through his mind too fast for him to catch any of them but he eventually he manages to force himself under control.

“Why is that important?” Stalling. Stalling buys time.

“Don’t you?”

Minho’s forgotten how Taemin can be one stubborn brat when he wants to be, award-winning actor or not.

“I don’t see why it matters, Taemin-ah,” he says with a sigh, leaning on the railing of the balcony Taemin’s cornered him on. “I mean, we literally just settled down. We’re still figuring out how we’re going to live. There isn’t really time to think about anything else.”

“You’ve been together for over ten years. You must’ve thought about it at least once.”

“No, we really haven’t.” Truthfully, Minho threw that option out the window when he had noticed how adverse Jinki is to children.

Taemin studies him for a long minute and Minho resolutely doesn’t waver.

“You love kids, hyung,” Taemin says. “I thought you’d be jumping to have one of your own. Is this about Jinki-hyung?”

Minho looks out over the backyard, neatly trimmed and tended. “Not really,” he eventually responds. “I just don’t think either of us _can_ adopt, Taemin-ah. We’re two men living together. No agency in Korea will let a gay couple take in an impressionable child.”

“You never know until you try.”

Minho shrugs. “So maybe it does have a little to do with Jinki,” he admits quietly, glancing over his shoulder to make sure his lover is nowhere within hearing range. “He doesn’t want kids, Taemin-ah. I’m not about to pressure him.”

Taemin smiles understandingly. “He said that a long time ago, Minho-hyung. Who knows, maybe he’s changed his mind.”

“If he hasn’t, then my bringing up the subject might upset him.”

“He loves you, Minho-hyung. He’s not going to be mad about something as normal as wanting kids. Besides, you’re both getting old.”

Minho sends him a dirty look at that but Taemin ploughs on, ignoring it.

“He could be considering it, too,” he points out. “I mean, maybe he isn’t so scared anymore.”

“It could still be a bad idea, you know. Taking care of a kid on some reality show for a few hours is miles different from taking care of one 24-7.”

“It’s not like your schedule’s too unpredictable for it. You’re all set for life. What’s the harm?”

When put that way, Minho begins to wonder the same. He and Jinki now have regular working hours, steady jobs and they’re financially stable. They have accepting families, loyal friends and a beautiful home in a safe neighbourhood. A child would just complete the picture.

“I’ll think about it,” he finally says. “Now isn’t really the best time, you know, and I still need to talk to Jinki, but...maybe. It’s a good idea.”

He admits the last part a little softly and Taemin’s eyes soften. He doesn’t pursue it.

“Great!” he exclaims, clapping his hands together with a satisfied look on his face.

Minho regards him suspiciously. “Why do you care so much, anyway? I mean, what does it matter if we adopt someone?”

“Because I get to be uncle Taemin and tell your kid all the embarrassing stories I know about you and Jinki-hyung,” says the other man gleefully.

“ _That’s_ your plan all along?” Minho demands but Taemin only grins and skips off without replying, back into the house.

Minho chases after and if he’s smiling, no one calls him on it.

.~*~.

It’s past midnight before the party winds down and people start to leave. It’s nearly dawn before the friends who are staying over fall asleep, after helping the happy couple clean up the mess left behind. Finally allowed their first private moment since yesterday when they’d started preparing for the party, said happy couple have retired to the kitchen for hot drinks.

Minho puts the kettle on and goes to the counter to sit next to Jinki, who’s gazing out at their backyard.

“What are you thinking?” he asks, wrapping an arm around his lover’s waist. Jinki smiles at him for a moment.

“Nothing really,” he answers. “Just about what to do tomorrow.”

“Sleep until noon,” is Minho’s immediate reply.

Jinki chuckles. “What are you going to do when you wake up?” he says teasingly.

“Argue with Kibum about how ugly the new vase your mom gave us is compared to the old one until Jonghyun and Taemin takes us out to dinner. Then when we get home, I’m going to make love to you until we fall asleep again.”

“Mmm.” Jinki winked at his lover and circles around the counter so he can wrap his arms around Minho’s slender waist, pressing their foreheads together. “I like that idea. Can I adopt it?”

“Well, there might be some problems if you had different plans.” Minho grins and pulls the other man flush against him. He tilts his head for a slow kiss, one that makes Jinki moan appreciatively.

Jinki pulls away after a short while, swatting at him half-heartedly. “I’m too tired for anything athletic,” he mutters, resting his head in the crook between Minho’s neck and shoulder. He feels Minho place his chin on the top of his head.

“Point,” Minho agrees. They sway slightly, enjoying the quiet, until the whistling of the kettle forces them to break apart.

Jinki laughs and moves forward to take it off the stove. “Hot chocolate?” he suggests.

“Sounds good to me.”

Minho hops onto a stool and watches as Jinki starts to prepare their drinks. His mind drifts as he waits, until a moment of blankness causes him to blurt out something he hadn’t meant to mention.

“Did you ever think of raising kids with me?”

Jinki’s hand, which has been stirring the chocolate, freezes. He stares at his lover, eyes unnaturally wide. “I—what?”

Minho bites his lip. “Nothing, sorry,” he mutters, looking away. “Forget I said anything.”

He hears Jinki set the spoon down but he doesn’t turn. There are footsteps and then he feels Jinki come up beside him. Soft hands – he can still remember that first time he touched them – cup his face and make him look up.

Jinki doesn’t look angry, more curious than anything. “You asked me if I ever thought of having kids with you,” he says softly.

Minho clears his throat and averts his eyes. “Pretend I didn’t,” he replies. “My mouth ran away with me.”

“Still, that means you were thinking about it.”

There’s a pause. “Maybe.”

“Minho, look at me.”

Minho reluctantly brings his eyes to meet Jinki’s. The light brown pools are sparkling, amused, although Minho can’t for the life of him figure out what’s funny about this.

“Kids?” Jinki repeats, a smile etched at the corner of his lips. “Was that what you were thinking so hard about earlier?”

Minho is surprised. “What do you mean?”

“Well, after Jonghyun and Taemin decided to separate us, I noticed that you were a little distracted. I wondered but you seemed alright so I figured I’d just wait for you to tell me if it was important.”

Minho purses his lips. He’ll admit that the conversation with Taemin has been floating at the edge of his thoughts but he hadn’t realised he’s being obvious about it. Or maybe it’s only Jinki who’d noticed. He naturally knows Minho better than anyone, considering how long they’ve been in an intimate relationship.

Jinki’s thumbs brushing over his cheeks bring him back to reality.

“Forget I brought it up,” Minho says, reaching up and taking Jinki’s hands into his, stroking his warm palms. “I didn’t mean to. I’m sorry.”

Jinki’s smile is gentle. “You don’t have to be sorry for asking a perfectly normal question, Minho.”

His lover gazes at him in confusion. Jinki leans forward to press a kiss against his lips.

“To answer your question, I have thought about it,” he says, which makes Minho blink rapidly in shock. “I’m not saying I want kids right away but...well, it’s not a bad idea, I guess.”

Minho isn’t sure he can handle all these surprises in one day. “I thought you didn’t want kids,” he says haltingly.

“I didn’t, at first,” Jinki admits. “But, I mean, we’re not young idols anymore. I’d say we’re more mature now, and we have people to ask if we don’t know anything. We have the time, the finances, everything. There’s nothing really stopping us from getting a kid.”

“But?” Minho prompts because he knows Jinki better than anyone, too.

The corner of Jinki’s lips quirk. “Nothing stopping us,” he repeats, “except maybe me.”

Minho instinctively pulls him close. “What does that mean?” he asks softly.

Jinki shrugs, as much as he is able in the hold Minho has him. “You want kids, Minho,” he says, backing up slightly so they can look at each other. “You’ve wanted kids ever since Yooguen. And I know the only reason you haven’t considered it seriously is because you think I would hate you for mentioning it.”

Minho doesn’t reply because he knows better than to lie, yet he has no idea what to say to that without causing offense. He just looks at his lover, wondering what he’s trying to say.

Jinki raises his hand and tucks a stray curl of hair behind Minho’s ear. “I won’t lie and say it’s not a terrifying thought,” he whispers. “Raising a child is way more responsibility than a pet. I’ll always be scared that I’m doing something wrong. But I realised that what I feel is the same thing every other parent feels.”

Minho begins to feel hope bloom in his gut and he wishes he could squash it. If this is leading nowhere, he doesn’t know how he’ll deal with the disappointment.

Jinki gazes at him for a long minute, searching, and then sighs. “I guess what I’m trying to say is that I’m willing to try.”

Minho finds his voice. “Seriously?” he says, almost afraid that Jinki will take it back.

Jinki smiles again. “I’m still scared,” he states. “But when I think of both of us being parents, I feel...I don’t know, excited.” He leans close so their lips brush. “I really want to share something like that with you.”

Minho can’t help it; he seizes Jinki around the waist and drags him into a suffocating hug. Jinki chokes on a laugh and hugs him back, just as tightly. “Thank you,” Minho whispers.

His lover pulls back to look him in the face again. “For what, sweetheart?” he says, tracing a finger over his lips.

Minho presses a hard kiss into it. “For thinking about it. For everything. For being mine.”

Jinki’s light brown eyes are alight and he takes a deep breath. “Yeah,” he whispers back.

Minho holds him. He thinks of what they’ve gone through, the paths they’ve taken and the choices they’ve made. Everything that has led them up to this moment. Not for the first time, he thanks whoever it is that has given him the opportunity to experience such happiness. All those years ago in front of the SME studio, introducing himself to the awkward, chubby-cheeked boy who is now the beautiful man in front of him, Minho has never imagined having a future as wonderful as this. He vows never to take it for granted.

“Minho?” Jinki says his name with that tint of tenderness he reserves for Minho alone. “Come on. I have a surprise for you.”

Minho blinks at him as his lover pulls away. Jinki picks up their drinks and hands one cup to Minho, who takes it obediently as he gets off the stool. Jinki interlocks their fingers and tugs lightly, beginning to lead him through the house.

“Where are we going?” Minho asks as they ascend the stairs.

Jinki winks at him. They reach the second floor and take care to move quietly, passing the couch Kibum is passed out on, toward the back of the house. Minho follows his lover, curious and immensely interested in whatever this surprise is.

“Are we heading for the attic?” he speaks after a moment, when he notices the wooden ladder protruding out of a door in the ceiling. “Are you finally going to show me what you’ve done with it?”

Jinki smiles. He’s asked Minho to allow him free reign over the attic, something Minho has no problem agreeing to. He hasn’t been allowed to see it, and he has no idea what Jinki’s planned for it. All he remembers of it is from the initial tour, when the small space had been caked with dust that eventually forced them back downstairs with hacking coughs.

“Yeah,” Jinki answers over his shoulder. “I want you to see it.”

Minho goes up first, careful to balance his cup of hot chocolate, and comes out into what is clearly the surprise. The attic is no longer covered in layers of dust; rather, the floors and rafters have been swept clean of every single particle and cobweb. Hanging from the beams are all sorts of wind chimes, the ones Jinki have collected over the years, some bizarre, some beautiful, they were everywhere.  The previously clear area is now populated by bookcases lining one wall, their shelves stacked with books both Minho and Jinki love. There is a desk against the other wall, a lamp casting a cozy orange glow everywhere, an armchair set behind it. The entire atmosphere is of comfort and warmth, obviously what Jinki had intended.

Minho hears Jinki coming up behind him, but his eyes are on the couch facing a large, circular, paned window. It’s his couch, a ratty old one he’d fallen in love with and bought at a friend’s garage sale four years ago. When he and Jinki had started on the house, he’d given it to his parents because he didn’t think there would be anywhere he could keep it. Yet there it is, in all its ancient, stuffed glory, blankets spread on the cushions as though waiting for someone to cuddle into them.

Jinki slips an arm around his waist. “So what do you think?”

“It’s amazing,” Minho says in wonder. “I...it’s incredible, baby.”

“I’m so glad you like it.” Jinki tugs him over to the couch. “I remembered you saying once, that you could imagine us cozied up together in our own little spot, no one to bother us or drag us out of bed. When I saw this place, I was like ‘This is it!’. It’s just perfect, isn’t it?”

Minho can now see out the round window, and he realises there is an incredible view of the twilight sky, stretching on and on, farther than the eye can see, the dark shapes of the mountains providing a scenic backdrop.

“Yeah,” he says. “It’s perfect.”

Jinki smiles and sits down on the couch, gesturing for Minho to join him. His lover doesn’t hesitate and soon they’re wrapped up in the blankets, leaning against each other. Minho has no idea how to describe the joy he’s feeling right now.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Jinki says, meaning the view.

Minho nods. “Gorgeous. Just like you.”

Jinki nuzzles his cheek, soft and affectionate. Minho drops a kiss on his head.

“Look,” he murmurs. “It’s dawn.”

There are rays of light beginning to shoot up from behind the far-off mountains, a signal of the approaching morning. They sip at their chocolate, watching as the dark skies liquefy into colours, the sun starting to creep into view. It’s lovely.

“Minho?” Jinki whispers after a while.

“Hmm?”

“When we adopt a child, I want a girl.”

Minho feels his heart threatening to burst. He sets his cup on the floor and squeezes Jinki close.

“I love you,” he declares, kissing him.

“I love you, too,” Jinki replies, laughing. He places his cup down as well, and burrows into Minho, their limbs entangling familiarly, comfortably.

They lie there, watching the sun slowly rise to welcome a new day. For them, it is the start of a whole new chapter, the last one that will define the rest of their lives. Ten years ago, they were in this exact same position, facing their debut as national idols, as shining SHINee. But, when you think about it, _this_ is the greatest adventure of their lifetimes, and just like before, they are more than happy to embark on it together.

 **THE END**

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and kudos make everyone happy. <3


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